


Chess

by WindraDeadZed



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Nora is a dork, Short written for Tumblr, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 15:04:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7176728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WindraDeadZed/pseuds/WindraDeadZed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Days like these were often spent in leisure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chess

"Checkmate."  
  
Nora _harumph_ ed, playfully slamming her fist onto the desk. The chess pieces bounced in respite. "You don’t pay me enough for this shit, Nick."  
  
"Now that’s a joke." Golden orbs flickered across their gunmetal sclera. The gentle rise of cheekbones and lowering of tattered gray lids softened the Synthetic gaze into one of warm amusement. "I don’t pay you at _all_."  
  
She flashed pearly whites at him - probably the only set left like that in the Wasteland.   
  
It was one of the many lazy afternoon spent like this. The big bad boogeymen of the Commonwealth had been laid to rest, the Prydwen no longer loomed ominously in the distant sky, the fear of Synths transitioning into a reluctant at first but gradual acceptance … it had all lead to a generalized silence. No more Institute-related kidnappings. With the settlements fortifying their defenses and the Minutemen, once again large in number, patrolling the landscape day and night, raider attacks were quickly becoming a thing of the past. Even the Deathclaws had drawn back, the boundaries of their territories shrinking until nothing was left.  
  
For the first time in a very long time, the Valentine Detective Agency was quiet. The desk was clear, the folders stamped ‘CLOSED’ and filed neatly away. Ellie, for the first time in several long months, was finally able to break away for a breather. Several, actually, with her arm hooked around Deacon’s (a match neither Valentine or herself thought capable … though the Railroad Heavy’s constant loitering made it obvious).   
  
Valentine was left with an empty office. _Somewhat_ empty.  
  
Nora's settlements were taking care of themselves at this point. She awarded Preston Garvey the title of general and took to her more favored past-time as Valentine's partner-in-crime _fighting_ : a decision the old Synth Sleuth once impartially rejected and now welcomed with hasty glee.  
  
Days like these were often spent in leisure. Reminiscing of old cases, exchanging 'war stories’ from years long since passed. During the evenings they’d vacate to the agency’s rooftop to watch the sun’s setting brilliance, sitting side-by-side and shoulder-to-shoulder.   
  
Without the weight of the world nestling atop their heads, they were able to stop, take stock, _breath_ , discover everything anew that made them, for the most part, human.   
  
Nora slumped across the desk, arms stretched beyond her range. She was an obnoxiously tall woman that easily met Nick’s eyes on foot. Limber, lanky appendages had no opposition in reaching the Synth’s barrel chest. He ran a metal claw against her bare knuckles, marvelling at the softness of her flesh.   
  
"I quit," she thrummed, tone light and eyes bright. Nora propped herself onto her elbows. With all the deftness of a cat-like ninja, she swapped her Silver Shroud hat for his fedora. It was heavily-laden with the scent of gunpowder and burned wires. Tugging the lapel down so that only her good eye was visible, Nora chirped, "No payment, no playmate."  
  
He guffawed. It was good and hearty - like his nature, one of the many things that made him hard to distinguish from a human, despite his referential jokes and quips about his deteriorating body. "Sounds like somebody’s a sore loser. But I think I can manage to pay you for your woeful troubles."  
  
With a little bow of his head, he caught her forehead with his lips. It wasn’t quite like the normal variation one would expect among _Homo sapiens_. His mouth was hard, the synthetic skin rigid from years of use. But it was warming - and charming - all the same.   
  
But Nora rolled onto her back and rose a brow his way. "Now now." She found his tie and knitted it boredly between her fingers. "Due to my observance, methinks you might be holding out on me. Surely you can do better than that, Detective."  
  
His teeth had an edge of silver to them as they exposed into a grin. Their alabaster coating started to fade a long time ago. "A very keen eye, Detective. I knew there was a reason I hired you."  
  
Lured slightly by the gentlest of tugs on his gnarled tie, Valentine pressed his lips against her’s. It was an … unusual practice, one he’d been so very uncomfortable with at first. Bless Nora and her unbeatable patience. All his years of investigation and Detective-work and Valentine still never would have guessed the outcome of their endless travels together.  
  
He didn’t need to breath, but Nora did. Watching her gasp for lost breath made his aged face crinkle in good humor. "Fancy another game, oh butthurt one? Or do you want to downgrade to _checkers_?"  
  
"Ho ho, Nick's got jokes!" Her challenging gleam reminded him of the spitfire wading beneath the surface. "Bring it on, Raggedy Man."


End file.
